


Food for Thought

by MistyBeethoven



Series: Strange Couchfellows [12]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Buses, Can Openers, Chunky Soup, Comedy, Dairy Queen, Dogs, Food, Forks, Gen, Gymnopedies, Hungry Man Dinners, Ice Cream, Ice headaches, Junk Food - Freeform, Microwaves, Robin Lord Taylor character, Tv Dinners, cheetos, just kind of stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 05:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19266895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: John Wick cooks for the Administrator.





	Food for Thought

**Author's Note:**

> The twelfth in a time diverting and admittedly stupid series.
> 
> This will probably only be funny for those who have tried some of these food products. My apologies.

The problem all started because fucking Cheetos held a contest, the Administrator later would think as he sat on a bus with a puddle of ice cream on his lap. The contest was a stupid one but John had insisted they at least try to enter it for fun.

The High Table stamper did not find looking through a bag of a greasy snack food that left a neonish orange substance on your fingers for shapes that resembled something else _fun_ but John insisted.

The assassin was looking for dog shaped ones.

"What does this one look like?" John asked, holding up the first Cheetos from the bag.

"A penis," the Administrator replied.

John reached inside the bag and pulled out another. "What about this one?"

"A penis," the pencil pusher remarked.

"This one?"

"Another penis," the bureaucrat sighed.

Halfway through the bag, the Administrator threw his head back and exhaled sharply. " _They all look like penises!_ "

John suggested they keep trying. He finally conceded by the end of the bag.

"Did you ever stop and think about how many foods look phallic?" Wick asked.

"No," the Administrator stated. "I _haven't_ "

He lied. He often had.

Neither of the men had felt comfortable enough to eat any of the Cheetos after their sudden discovery so John Wick fed them to his dog who had no problem, often spending minutes on end licking his genitals in front of the two men anyway.

"Now that we've wasted most of the evening, I'd better get supper started like I _always_ do," the Administrator rose from the couch and headed for the kitchen.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Wick suddenly asked. The bureaucrat heard the irritation hidden under the other man's deep voice. "Are you mad at me for letting you do all of the cooking?"

The Administrator thought about it for two seconds. "Well I do get tired of _stamping_ all day and it would be nice _not_ to have to cook."

"Well I get tired of _killing_ people all day," John Wick stated. "But I'll make two home made meals for us this weekend."

* * *

The High Table worker began to worry that Saturday as he sat at the table and listened to John Wick using the can opener. Five minutes later he placed a bowl in front of the Administrator.

"What the hell is _this_?" the pencil pusher asked genuinely frightened.

"It's soup that eats like a meal," Wick replied.

The man peered into the contents of the bowl. It looked like something nobody would _want_ to eat. "Where's my spoon?" the man asked finally brave enough to try it.

"You don't need a spoon," John Wick said. "You can eat it with a fork.

No matter how hard he tried, the Administrator found it an impossible task and sided with team spoon.

"I'm still hungry," the bureaucrat complained once the chore of eating it was finished.

John Wick nodded. "Hungry? Okay. I'll take that into consideration."

* * *

The Administrator sat down at the table feeling the same trepidation as the evening before as he listened to the microwave do its countdown and finally beep, signalling it was done.

John Wick placed a tray in front of his roommate.

It was a TV dinner.

The Administrator had had one once.

 _Once_.

Still he attempted to eat it for his roommates sake.

"The potatoes are still frozen," the bureaucrat complained.

"They usually are," John Wick agreed. "Put your corn in them. It will melt it."

The High Table employee did as he was instructed. He did not want corn in with his potatoes. He also did not want it in his _brownie_ but he soon discovered that had already been done for him.

"It's not a Hungry Man dinner unless you find a vegetable in the desert," Wick said looking thoughtful.

"This is a Hungry Man dinner?" The Administrator asked.

"Yes."

"I guess that makes sense," the shorter man sighed, having finished. "I'm still hungry _man_."

* * *

Following a brief after dinner conversation, the Administrator learned that Helen Wick had done most of the cooking. After her death the world's most infamous assassin had existed on take-out, when he was quite certain the food hadn't been poisoned, and the shit he had just fed him.

Wick looked quite sad as he recalled his wife and the other man felt himself seized with a feeling he simply hated: pity.

He was still feeling it as he left the apartment and headed for work.

John Wick was listening to Gymnopedies something he only did when he was really depressed.

One day the Administrator intended to tell John what the word really meant.

* * *

Coming home from work, the High Table stamper was in fear that his roommate would still be in a funk. He dropped by Dairy Queen. Both men liked the fast food joint, although, it often gave John Wick ice headaches; it gave them to the Administrator, as well, but being a masochist he always enjoyed them. He ended up buying a Skor Blizzard cake with a dog on it to help cheer the man up.

It was a nice looking cake.

At least it had been before all the bus stops and it had started to melt in the Administrator's lap. He flipped its dome casing over so it formed a puddle of ice cream soup in the top. It had ruined his good pants though first.

Home again, hands full and unable to reach his keys, the man kicked the apartment door. "It's me John!" he screamed.

John Wick opened the door and stared at the Administrator and the large white stain on the front of his pants.

"Hi honey," John said. "Is that an ice cream stain on your pants or are you just happy to see me?"

The Administrator smirked.

**Author's Note:**

> Not that anybody was wondering but John and the Administrator sat down with the melted Blizzard cake and picked out the pieces of Skor and ate them together. John felt better after that. Well as better as John can feel.


End file.
